A wail in the night woke both Blake and me. Our two-year-old son whimpered between us. "I've got her," Blake said, getting up. I got up, taking our son back to his bed. On my way back to the bed, I stopped at the nursery door where Blake was with our five-month-old daughter.
He was sitting there rocking her.
"In your bed
Momma said
Baby's riding off to dreamland
One by one
They've begun
Dance and prance for little baby
Blacks and bays, dapples and greys
Running in the night
When you wake
You shall have
All the pretty little ponies."
I sighed as he continued the song. That was the lullaby that grandpa used to sing me. I sat at the door watching them. She's going to grow up loving horses.
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Three years later
"Mom. Chesney isn't in her bed." I jumped out of bed and checked the entire house. "Ok. Go get back into bed." I told him. I poked my head into the bathroom. "Blake Chesney's not in the house. I'm going to check the barn." I said over the shower. The shower shut off as I closed the door back.
I threw my boots on at the back door and ran to the barn. Hysterical little girl laughs filled my ears. I went directly to the stall. I approached quietly. Chesney was laughing her head off. Thunder was rearing and pawing at the ground. I stood there in awe as he didn't try to hurt her.
He didn't step near her. An arm came to my waist. I knew it was Blake. "She's just like you already. We're both going to have a hard time giving her away one day." He said. "Let it be until we absolutely have to worry about that," I said.